


the damning deceptions of a perceived doppelgänger

by htruona (circhester)



Series: Apparently Humorous LU One-Shots [9]
Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: (lighthearted) misunderstandings, 5+1 Things, Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Humour, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), and one time he realises that no. they're definitely not the same person, basically: five times that wars reflects on leg and ravio being the same person, nothing serious. that's not my style.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circhester/pseuds/htruona
Summary: They lookexactly the same, Warriors realises.Or, well. They look exactly the same in the way that itmatters. Their hair colours are complete contrasts of one another; the way they dress is as different as night and day, much like their personalities; and their eye coloursmightbe different, but that might just be his faded memories talking.But none of that changes the fact that Legend, one of these other heroes that Warriors has just met, and Ravio, the friendly merchant with enough tools and firepower to cheese his way through the war against Cia, have theexact same face.Only one conclusion can be drawn. Legend and Ravio are, in fact, the same person—and now Warriors is tasked with trying to keep Legend’s supposed future self a secret, lest he fuck up the future even more than it’s alreadybeenfucked up.Joys.
Relationships: Legend & Warriors (Linked Universe), Link & Ravio (Legend of Zelda)
Series: Apparently Humorous LU One-Shots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676488
Comments: 48
Kudos: 323





	the damning deceptions of a perceived doppelgänger

**1.**

They look _exactly the same_ , Warriors realises. 

Or, well. They look exactly the same in the way that it _matters_. Their hair colours are different, with Legend having blonde hair that fades into pink(?), a stark contrast to Ravio’s familiar deep purple; the way they dress is as different as night and day, much like their personalities, though there are aspects of both that remain constant through the times; and their eye colours _might_ be different, but that might just be his faded memories talking.

But none of that changes the fact that Legend, one of these other heroes that Warriors has just met, and Ravio, the friendly merchant with enough tools and firepower to cheese his way through the war against Cia, have the _exact same face_. And general body structure. And voice, and _everything else_.

Only one conclusion can be drawn. Legend and Ravio are, in fact, the same person—and now Warriors is tasked with trying to keep Legend’s supposed future self a secret, lest he fuck up the future even more than it’s already _been_ fucked up by their general presence.

Joys.

He sighs, raising a hand to his forehead and rubbing at his temples. “Fuck.”

“Um,” someone says—Warriors turns around, and it’s the Hero of the Skies, who he’s going to kindly pretend that he doesn’t recognise from Cia’s creepy rose garden, “You alright?”

“I hate time travel,” Warriors replies. 

Someone else raises a glass in his peripheral vision—the fabled Hero of Time, Warriors realises, who they’ve decided to just call _old man_. “Hear, hear.”

* * *

**2.**

He needs to come up with a plan. Or, in the absence of a plan, he at least needs to come up with a vague _idea_ of where to even begin approaching this situation.

So far, the past few days have done nothing but _confirm_ his initial suspicions of Legend and Ravio being the same person, just years apart. Legend is still a bitter and snarky asshole, a stark contrast from Ravio’s cheerful sheepishness; but now that he’s had the chance to actually spend time with him, their similarities have become all too apparent.

Legend never hesitates or holds back his biting comments or comebacks; much in the same vein, Ravio never had any reservations about his words, using whatever dirty tactics he knew to convince someone that they should spend just a _few_ more rupees buying what he had to offer. Legend is secretive and quick to change the topic at the slightest probing of his past; Ravio always expertly changed the subject whenever someone tried to figure out just where he was from, or how he got any of his items. In battle, Legend takes an almost sickening amount of joy in catching his opponents off-guard with his wacky weapons and tools that should _not_ be used in battle whatsoever; Ravio, for all his image as a mere merchant, fought in much the same way, and far too often was Warriors able to do nothing but stare blankly at the fiery tornados he was able to conjure up out of seemingly nothing at all.

There’s differences between even those. That, he knows—but the more he focuses on what’s different, the more it becomes apparent that they’re _just the same_.

...To Warriors, it seems as though Ravio is just Legend; but a few years older, with a new hairdo and a better clothing style, and much friendlier. 

(It’s definitely not easy to reconcile Legend’s bitterness with Ravio’s sweetness, but Warriors likes to believe— _does_ believe—that people can change a lot, given a few years and a chance to heal. Ravio certainly had that maturity, too, of someone who’s been through hardship for a fair amount of time, but who’s also come out stronger for it. It really isn’t that hard to believe that someone like Legend could be the intermediate between experiencing that hardship and growing past that hardship.)

...But that’s enough psychology for today. He doesn’t think that Legend would appreciate him digging into his psych, and he’s got more pressing issues to worry about—

—Like _how in the world_ is he supposed to keep this to himself?

He’s now faced with an actual situation wherein he _knows_ someone’s future self, he _knows_ what they’re going to become, and he needs to act like he _doesn’t_ know any of that. And it’s not like last time, either, when the timeline was already so fucked up in every single way possible that a slight slip up in information wouldn’t have consequences beyond what Cia had already done—no, now he has to actively not say anything about what he knows, not act like he’s hiding things either, and try not stress himself out over whether the timeline would once again implode because of his actions.

And for all his ability to come up with battle strategies in any situation—whether that be a rescue mission, or a scouting operation, or a good old invasion—in a situation as delicate as this, he has no idea what to do other than… just wing it, and ask Lana later if the timeline has shattered yet.

He sighs. Yeah, winging it is probably the best plan he’s got.

* * *

**3.**

Warriors watches on, a faint smile touching the edges of his lips, as Legend approaches a sleeping Wind, blanket in hand. He looks left, right—Warriors ducks out the way of his vision before Legend gets a glance at him—before he breathes out a sigh, letting a smile quirk up his lips, and throwing the blanket over Wind.

Wind doesn’t notice. He’s sound asleep, with soft snores and a dribble of drool escaping his mouth, and he hardly even stirs when Legend takes the time to tuck him into the blanket so that he’s more comfortable. 

_Not a softy, my ass_.

Warriors clasps a hand over his mouth, suppressing the silent laughter that threatens to burst from him—

—Legend catches sight of him, and his eyes narrow.

 _Don’t say a fucking word_ , he mouths. 

Warriors nods, sending a thumbs up along with a reassuring smile. Legend huffs, turns on his heel, and leaves.

That was… really sweet, actually. And Warriors remembers the number of times that Ravio did the same to the people of his time, most often to Lana, who has an unfortunate tendency to fall asleep on pretty much any vaguely comfortable seat, given enough safety in her surroundings and in the people occupying them.

The smile on his lips grows. Legend isn’t too different from his future self after all, is he?

* * *

**4.**

“Hey, vet,” Warriors says. Legend looks up from his fire rod, setting the cloth he was using to clean its metal aside, and raises an eyebrow. “Mind if I get a look at that fire rod of yours?”

Legend narrows his eyes, seamlessly combining unrestrained suspicion with tired deadpan, and asks, “Why?”

“I, uh,” Warriors stumbles out, trying to think of an excuse since he really had just thought that Legend would let him look at it without issue—

Legend rolls his eyes. An amused grin grows on his lips, and he hands the fire rod over, smugness clear by the look in his eye— _bastard_ , Warriors internally curses, when he realises that Legend was just messing with him. “Don’t break it,” he warns.

Warriors scoffs. “Who do you think I am?”

He turns the rod over in his hands, and confirms the suspicions he had—this is, indeed, the _exact same_ fire rod that he always remembered Ravio using. Right down to the smallest details, even. There’s a small yet distinctive pattern of purple trailing down the hilt and, if he looks close enough, he can see a small engraving of _Ravio_ on there, too.

His lips quirk up into a smile. Good to see that Ravio’s—or Legend’s, he supposes (he wonders why Ravio ever changed his name from Link? Or, maybe, Link is his actual name and Ravio is more of a pseudonym for his work…)—insistence to advertise and brand his work is ever consistent, even when he’s not actively pressuring people into buying it. The fire rod’s weighting is also as wonderfully balanced as ever, and even as one who isn’t particularly _attuned_ to magic, he can _feel_ the power thrumming inside the steel. Ravio’s work is as perfect as ever. 

Warriors hands the fire rod back to Legend. “Thanks.”

“What did you even want with it?” Legend asks. 

Warriors shakes his head. “Just a look.”

* * *

**5.**

Legend walks into the camp, Twilight and Sky by his side, and… _oh_ …

His hair is _pink_ …? 

Warriors suppresses a laugh at the sight of it—not that it’s _bad_ , because it actually kinda suits him (it somehow feels _right_ , more right than the blonde ever did), but because its appearance is just so _sudden_. Like he’s gone off and dyed it on a whim. 

“Nice colour choice. It suits you,” he says. Legend looks up at him, and before Warriors can _stop his damn mouth from destroying the timeline_ , his lips twitch up and he adds, “Ever considered purple?”

Legend stares blankly at him before something like _rage_ fills his eyes. He raises his hand, showing the back of a fist to him; and makes an incredibly over-dramatic point of raising his middle finger and keeping it in the air for upwards of twenty seconds, directing all the hatred it carries right at him.

Warriors can’t help but burst into laughter. Goddesses, if he were to see his future self…

* * *

**+1.**

During their travels across time, despite all the lands they’ve discovered and people they’ve met, and long after Legend’s hair once again fades into its weird blonde and pink combination, one fact has remained constant in Warriors’ mind—that Legend, the snarky git he’s travelled with over the past couple of months, and Ravio, the cheeky bastard of a merchant with one too many tricks up his ridiculously oversized sleeves, are one and the same person. 

Unrelated to the point above, the group of nine have all decided to camp out in Legend’s place for the night, seeing as it’s the closest place of shelter they can find—and it’s _free_ to boot. (The sign outside had said _Ravio’s shop_ , too. Ravio probably _is_ just a pseudonym for his creations, Warriors realises, at that.) Warriors doesn’t remember Ravio ever being so generous, but he supposes that there’s a bunch of other differences between Legend’s present and future self, so it doesn’t particularly matter, does it?

The main issue, however, is…

This place is a _fucking wreck_. There’s stuff thrown about everywhere, with absolutely no sense of order to any of it (yet, from how Legend seamlessly traverses through it all and has no issue finding anything, there’s evidently some sort of twisted order) and Warriors is trying not to step on anything while simultaneously managing to step on _everything_ because there’s _no damn space to even stand_ —

A rustle. 

Warriors narrows his eyes, one hand darting to his sword, and another holding a finger up to shush everyone else in the room. 

The rustle sounds again, and in the silence Warriors is able to pin its source to behind one of the closed doors, blocked from opening by piles of _stuff_. There’s something on the other side (it’s not one of them, because nobody had dared move anything to get into that other room) and Warriors edges closer to the door, determined to find out just what—

The door bursts open. The piles of _stuff_ go flying across the room.

From it appears a man in purple robes—a very _familiar_ man—and they stand in silence, staring at each other blankly for a moment, before—

“—Mr. Scarf-Captain-sir!” Ravio exclaims, running over and engulfing him in a hug that forces Warriors to stumble back a few steps. 

He blinks, and something like a smile grows on his lips, overshadowed by the surprise he feels. “What the— _Ravio_ —?!”

Ravio pulls back from the hug, grinning. “Yep! Surprised?”

“I, uh,” Warriors begins, his mind rushing between the thoughts of _what the fuck_ and _the timeline, oh fuck, the timeline_ , “Why are you— no _how_ are—?!”

The sound of very loud footsteps distract him from his thoughts, and Legend( _???!!_ ) appears next to Ravio. “You know each other…?” he asks, looking between Ravio and Warriors.

Warriors, dumbstruck with the realisation that either the timeline is _completely fucked_ or maybe his assumption wasn’t _quite_ as correct as he thought, can only nod. Legend squints at him but seems to ignore the action otherwise.

“Meet Ravio,” he introduces to the wider group. “A con artist, my Lorulean doppelgänger, and,”—he very _pointedly_ glares at Ravio, who shrinks beneath its intensity—“a very _uninvited house guest_. Why the _fuck_ are you here?”

Ravio shrugs. “Hyruleans have a lot of money to waste. I’ve made some _incredible_ profit up here, you know.”

“My _house_ is _not a shop_ ,” Legend grits out, largely seeming to ignore Ravio’s explanation. 

Similarly, Ravio seems to ignore Legend’s insistence that his house is not, in fact, a shop, instead looking around at the group and smiling. “And look! You’ve made _friends_ , Mr. Hero! You know, I didn’t think you would ever grow close to anyone that isn’t me or the Princess.”

Warriors chokes, breathing out a laugh through his shock. _Fucking hell, Ravio hasn’t lost his touch_ —

“ _Watch it_ ,” Legend growls, which only widens Ravio’s cat-like smile. He turns to look Warriors in the eye (and Warriors knows that he still looks like a dumbfounded idiot—he definitely _feels_ like a dumbfounded idiot, too) and crosses his arms. “What’s with you?”

Warriors stumbles over his words for a solid five seconds, before sighing. “I, uh,” he admits, eyes drifting so he doesn’t have to bear the humiliation of Legend’s eye-contact, “thought that Ravio was a future version of you, so I, uh… yeah.”

Legend stares blankly at him—not that Warriors knows this because he’s _looking_ at Legend, no (he hasn’t built up the strength to make eye-contact again), but rather because the weight of his stare is so _strong_ that he can _feel_ the holes it’s bearing into the side of his head.

“Cap?” Legend begins. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Warriors can do nothing but nod in agreement. “Yeah, I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed! but its time for me to hop back along to trying to understand how the FUCK xenoblade chronicles' lore works. bye, love y'all
> 
> also!! [this wonderful little one-shot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23098678/chapters/60447886) by my friend fire brought a LOT of joy into my life recently. it's so soft. go read it if you want fluffy content, my heart aches with how cute this is :DD
> 
> [tumblr](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DLzxrzFCyOs)!!


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